Char didn’t sleep very well that night. There were too many strange people around for her comfort. The store echoed with the low murmur of voices and the sounds of people moving and snoring. Some of the empty shelving had been moved outside and used as makeshift walls for the latrine, and what was left was being used to divide the room into sleeping areas and a larger communal space. They did nothing to block out sound, though.

  Lulu was snuggled up to her side, snoring softly. Char stared up at the acoustic tiles as the first orange rays of morning sun started to creep across them. Her mind was whirling in so many different directions, she was surprised she wasn’t dizzy.

  She’d shot lightning from her hands yesterday.

  Between the combat and Voss and getting the survivors settled, she hadn’t taken the time to truly appreciate that fact. She could do magic. Real, flashy, power-of-a-storm-in-her-hand magic! She couldn’t stop the silly grin. The apocalypse was a horrible, bloody tragedy, but the one bright spot in it left lightning-shaped after-images in her vision.

  The sounds of people stirring grew louder, and the scent of coffee wafted to her through the funk of too many unwashed people in too small a space. This store wasn’t going to work as long-term housing. The huge display windows acted like a greenhouse. Without air conditioning—or a resident Bonepicker—the interior was going to get too hot for comfort.

  She shook the thoughts away. It wasn’t her problem. She’d done her part to get them to safety. Voss was an ass, but he was a competent fighter, and he could handle the local wildlife. They had Mira, Baptiste, and Rodgers, who were all solid people. As long as they stuck together and were smart, they had a real shot. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but they could survive.

  Still, it gnawed at her. She had her reasons for going, but it felt like she was leaving a job half finished. They weren’t her people, and they weren’t her problem, but it didn’t matter how many times she repeated that to herself. Guilt didn’t care much for logic. She’d do what she could for them before she left, but she was leaving.

  She rolled off her pallet of blankets and tried to be quiet as she bundled them up and stowed them in her inventory. Lulu woke up almost as soon as she’d moved and had trotted out to the main area to see who was about to give her scritches.

  When Char picked her way past the other sleepers and around the shelving unit divider, Lulu was sitting next to Anais Baptiste. She wasn’t quite begging, but her eyes never left the food Anais was trying to cook over a little propane camp stove. It looked like canned tamales, and Char’s stomach started to growl.

  She clicked her tongue to get Lulu’s attention and went to the door, giving Anais a wave as she passed. Quietly slipping out, she held the door for Lulu, and they both went to take care of morning needs. Afterward, Char stood in the cool morning for a few minutes, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. It had only been one night, and the store was already starting to feel stifling. She’d talk to Rodgers about covering the windows or building a shade to keep the worst of the heat out.

  “Stop it, Char,” she reminded herself. They weren’t her problems to solve, damnit. When Lulu was through sniffing at everything, they went back inside. More people were up and moving, and Char saw another issue. There was no way Anais was going to be able to cook enough to feed nearly thirty people over one tiny camp stove. They should build a fire pit outside. Walling off an area just outside the door and roofing it would give them an outside kitchen and solve the window pro… ‘Stop it! Not your circus, not your monkeys.’ She would mention the idea to Rodgers before she left.

  “Something bothering you?” Anais asked, not unkindly.

  Char shook her head, “Just thinking.”

  Anais nodded, “That explains the scowl. Not many pleasant things to think about these days.”

  Char snorted. “Understatement of the century. I know most of what was in the cooler was junk food. I killed a boar the other day. Do you have room in your inventory for some meat?”

  Anais’s smile transformed her bulldog face into a sunbeam. She was an older woman, Char guessed early 50s, but couldn’t be sure. A little on the heavy side and solidly built, she would have had a commanding presence if she weren’t so reserved. The smile brought her to life, though. “That would be incredible. We can’t survive on potato chips and candy bars forever. We’ll have to send out hunting parties, I suppose.” The smile fell away. “That’s going to be dangerous.”

  Char pulled out the meat, wrapped in the hide of the boar. She also gave up three jars of peanut butter and a couple of loaves of bread, only keeping one of each for herself. She could find more food. She couldn’t walk away and let people starve.

  “So, you’re hoarding food?” The accusation came from behind her. Voss walked up and picked up one of the jars of peanut butter. “I should have known you were too good to be true.”

  “I’d hardly call giving away food ‘hoarding.’ Especially when the boar was my kill. I’ve done nothing but help you. What’s with the attitude?” Char faced Voss and raised an eyebrow.

  “Just wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. People like you don’t just show up and hand out favors for free.” Voss’s expression had gone from accusatory anger to something approximating reasonable skepticism, but his eyes were too calculating. He had an angle, but aside from driving her away, Char couldn’t figure out what it might be.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll be heading out in a couple of hours.” Char’s jaw clenched. She exhaled slowly through her nose and turned to Anais, “When Declan wakes up, tell him to find me outside, and I’ll give him that sword lesson he wanted.”

  Lulu had lost interest in the food on the stove and was staring at Voss. Her tail had stopped wagging. Char thought it might be a good idea to make some distance before either she or Lulu lost their temper with the man. Neither would result in a happy outcome. She stalked away, Lulu at her heel.

  Outside, she found Rodgers pacing off a line. She watched him until he finished, not wanting to throw off his count. He planted a stick when he reached the end of his line and turned, smiling when he saw her.

  “Hey, Mr. Rodgers, how’s the neighborhood?” Char smiled back, trying to put the unpleasant encounter with Voss behind her.

  “Please, call me Cory. Voss is the only one who uses last names. He acts like we’re all in the military, and it drives me up the wall.”

  “Cory it is, then.” She nodded to the marker stick, “What’ve you got in the works?”

  “Well, I was thinking that we should wall off a courtyard area. We can use it as a cooking and dining space, and that would relieve some of the heat and smell inside.”

  Char smiled. ‘See,’ she told herself, ‘You’re not the only person who has ideas. They’ll be fine.’ “I was going to mention that a shade to keep the sun off those windows would probably be a good idea. Oh, and there’s a creek. It’s about a half-day’s walk that way. Lots of rocks for a fire-pit. Or walls.”

  Cory nodded, “Good to know, for the water at least. Without a cart, I don’t think we can get enough rocks back here to make a difference, though.”

  “How about a travois?”

  “A what, now?”

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  “A travois. It’s what the Plains Indians used to carry their goods before the settlers showed up with horses and wheels. You use two long poles and tie straps or a hide between them, load it up, then pull it behind you.” She mimed holding two poles like handles and dragging a load. “With only the tips of the poles on the ground, you can haul a fairly heavy load without as much friction holding you back.”

  Cory’s eyebrows shot up. “Smart. Where’d you learn that?”

  Char shrugged. “Grew up in Oklahoma. My mom was part Osage. I didn’t grow up with the traditions and stuff. Dad thought it was important to learn about that part of my heritage, though, so he dragged me off to museums and Powwows. I guess some of it stuck.” Why was she oversharing with this man? That wasn’t like her. It was probably because he reminded her a little of her dad: practical, calm, handy, and a good listener.

  He must have picked up on her sudden discomfort because he pivoted the conversation back to practical matters. “How big is that creek?”

  “Not very. A couple of feet deep, and narrow enough to step across, mostly. There’s a deeper spot a little downstream, but I wouldn’t recommend going past it without a well-armed group.”

  “Oh, why’s that?”

  So, she told him about the dungeon. She made sure to emphasize the danger of both the dungeon itself and the corrupted animals that prowled the woods in that area. By the time she finished, Declan was there, listening with rapt attention.

  Loman was there, too, standing a few feet back with a sneer on his face. “And you fought through it all on your lonesome? Sure, honey. Pull the other one.”

  “How many of those glass mosquitoes did you kill?” Char remembered him being one of the fastest runners, not even looking back to check on the group. His sneer became a scowl. Char shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t care if you believe me or not.” She turned to Declan, who was watching the exchange with a frown. “You ready for that lesson?”

  His frown vanished in an instant. “Yeah. More than ready!” He bounced on his toes.

  Char snorted at his enthusiasm. She looked around and spotted a stack of sticks that Cory had set aside to use as markers. “Cory, you mind if we borrow a couple of those?”

  Cory was shaking his head, and about to reply, when Loman, obviously boiling over having been dismissed so easily, cut in, “You ain’t so special, you know. I see what you’re doing.”

  “Oh, and just what is it that I’m doing?” Char was honestly confused.

  “Weaseling your way in, trying to take over. Well, we don’t need you.” His sneer came back, sneaking up his lips like he thought he’d just won an argument.

  “Um. OK. I wasn’t planning to stick around anyway.” Char tested a few of the sticks and found a couple the right length. The weight was off, but they’d do. Loman was still standing there. Char could practically see the hamster wheel in his head trying to turn.

  “Yeah, keep acting like you’re better than the rest of us. We’ll see how long that lasts,” was the best retort he could come up with.

  Char raised an eyebrow. “You done?” She asked, giving him a flat stare.

  Cory cleared his throat. “Loman, why don’t you go check if Anais needs help cooking?”

  “Boss said keep watch out here,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Cory motioned to the woods, “Don’t you think you should, maybe, do that then? The dangerous stuff is out there.”

  Loman snorted derisively, “Not all of it,” he muttered, but he turned and stalked away to stand at the corner of the building, watching the woods.

  “What was that all about?” Declan asked, saving Char the trouble.

  “Some people can’t stand to see other people doing well,” Cory said. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

  Char shook her head and changed the subject, “So, is Declan your first name, or last name?”

  “First name. Voss calls everyone by their last name except me and Leigh. She’s sixteen, but I’m an adult. I’m nineteen.” It was subtle, but Char picked up on a little resentment in his tone. “Well, he calls Gina by her first name, but that’s because he’s…” His voice trailed off, and his ears turned bright red. “Um… you know.”

  Char’s eyebrows went up with understanding. Now she knew the reason for Gina’s poisonous glances. And possibly the reason for the hostility this morning, if Gina had been filling Voss and Loman’s heads with poisoned words as well. Voss had stayed by her side on the walk to the mercado. Gina must have decided she was competition.

  “Don’t let it get under your skin,” Cory counseled. “You pull your weight, everybody knows it.”

  “Come on,” Char said as she tossed Declan one of the sticks, “I thought you were out here for a lesson.”

  Declan’s grin was back as he caught the stick. “Hell, yeah!”

  “OK. First, this stick is a lot lighter than a sword, but the first lesson is all about footwork, so it’ll work for now. Stand like this, feet at shoulder width, turned like so.” Char demonstrated a balanced stance and explained why it was important. Declan soaked it up.

  Over the next hour or so, she showed him how to step forward and back without losing his stance. She shoved his shoulders every time he lost his stance to drive home its importance. He learned how to hold the sword and the most basic cuts and parries, but Char focused on pounding proper footwork into him. It was the best lesson she could teach with the short time they had.

  At some point in the lesson, Leigh had come out and she sat on the curb to watch. Lulu left off her investigations of the area to sit next to her.

  They ranged back and forth across the open area in front of the store, trying to stay out of Cory’s way. They’d worked up a sweat, and Declan was getting a grip on the basic movements when Anais popped her head out to ask if they wanted breakfast. Char was grinning, the earlier unpleasantness washed away by the exercise and camaraderie.

  “You’re a quick study. Keep practicing with it until it becomes second nature. Swords or fists, it doesn’t matter. The minute it looks like things are going to turn violent, you want to fall into that stance without thinking about it.” They returned their sticks to Cory’s pile and followed Leigh and Lulu into the building.

  They were the last four to eat. Everyone else had paper plates with canned tamales and pre-packaged pastries, and they’d drifted into clusters around the room to eat. The four of them found seats near Anais as she plated a meal for herself and sat down with them. Char glanced around the room and realized that Voss wasn’t there, and neither was Gina. Loman was still outside on watch.

  They ate in silence, all too hungry to let conversation get in the way of sustenance. Char got the feeling that this was going to be the way of the world for a while. With uncertainty on all sides, it was best to eat quickly if you had food in front of you. Char put out Lulu’s food bowl and filled it before she started in on her own meal.

  Declan, with the ravenous nature of youth, finished his food first. He waited, with barely restrained impatience, for the others to finish before he asked the question that was burning his tongue. “Char, you said you were leaving. Why won’t you stay with us?”

  Leigh looked up sharply, first at Char, then at Lulu.

  Char chose her words carefully. She was used to just blurting out what came to mind, but in the short time she’d known them, these people had been kind to her, and she liked them. She didn’t want to hurt Declan’s feelings or break Leigh’s heart. “I have family out there somewhere. My dad, his sister, and my cousins. I want to try to find them. I know I might not be able to, with the way everything got all scrambled up, but I don’t think I could forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”

  Cory grunted in understanding, his mouth still too full with his last bite of food to comment. He nodded.

  Wordlessly, Leigh scooted over to Lulu and wrapped her arms around the big dog. She pressed her face into Lulu’s fur, and Char was pretty sure it was to hide tears. She felt her heart breaking just a little bit at the sight. The girl hadn’t spoken a word since Char had met her, and she had a haunted look in her eyes. She wondered what sort of trauma Leigh had suffered to leave her like that.

  “OK, yeah, I get it,” Declan said, sounding glum. “I guess that isn’t the sort of thing you can argue with.”

  “Here.” She pulled the e-tool out of her inventory and handed it to Cory. “I’ve got the one on my multi-tool if I need it. It’s not a lot, but it should make building that wall a little easier.” Then she thought of something, “Oh! And I found a couple of cars in the woods. They were past that dangerous area I told you about, but if those two are out there, then there might be others. I think things got pretty evenly distributed, so I bet if you walk half a day in any direction, you’ll find something useful.”

  “Oh, yeah, we found several cars after we left the DMV. It was so weird, they were just sitting out in the middle of nowhere on little patches of asphalt like the one around this place. We also found a farmhouse, but it was old and falling apart. And it was full of those fox-monsters.” Declan shuddered at a memory, and his torrent of words dried up.

  Cory put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, having shared whatever experience had dampened the youth’s exuberance. He turned to Char and held up the e-tool. “Thanks for this. It’ll help a lot.”

  “I wish you could stay, we could use another strong fighter, but we understand,” Anais said, clearing away the paper plates and stacking them. She got to her feet as Char did. It took Char off guard when the older woman leaned in to hug her. “You take care out there. And, thank you, for everything.”

  Char was stiff with surprise for a second before she returned the hug. The human contact felt good. “You all take care of one another.”

  Leigh let go of Lulu with one last kiss on the dog’s head. She wiped her eyes and tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

  Leaving was harder than she’d expected it to be.

  Outside, she found Loman still leaning against the corner of the building. Voss and Gina were with him, leaning in, talking, thick as thieves. Voss called out, “Leaving already?”

  “Yeah. Places to be.” Their eyes met for a moment.

  “Well, it’s a dangerous world out there, but I think we’ll get along fine without you,” he said.

  “I’m counting on it.” She turned and walked away, not checking to see if he was still watching her, but knowing he was.

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